


From Scratch

by Whistlelark



Category: Supernatural
Genre: And So Much More, Cas antics, Destiel - Freeform, Food Sex, Freshly human Cas, Gay Sex, Homosexual Sex, M/M, Oblivious Cas, Rating for later chapters, Sex in later chapters, The mystery of baking terminology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 11:49:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5126438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whistlelark/pseuds/Whistlelark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I can't justify this, not really.<br/>Dean loves pie.<br/>I love Dean.<br/>I love Cas.<br/>Cas needs to be covered in pie and have Dean lick it off.<br/>But not yet.<br/>This chapter is generally just full of silly Cas antics.<br/>But the pie crust isn't going to be the only thing with filling for long :D</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't justify this, not really.  
> Dean loves pie.  
> I love Dean.  
> I love Cas.  
> Cas needs to be covered in pie and have Dean lick it off.  
> But not yet.  
> This chapter is generally just full of silly Cas antics.  
> But the pie crust isn't going to be the only thing with filling for long :D

Two and a half cups flour.

Almond flour, whole wheat flour, self-rising flour. Castiel’s eyes scanned the shelves back and forth, reading over each hefty bag. All-purpose flour, Quinoa flour – What was Quinoa in the first place? Bread flour, Cake flour. He wasn’t making bread or cake. So, he started to think of this in terms of what he was making. He was making pie. Was there such a thing as pie flour? Castiel tipped his head as he continued looking over each shelf. Rye flour, Rice flour, and the selection went on and on. Cas was feeling more than overwhelmed. The recipe that he’d found in the magazine had only said, ‘Flour,’ Two and a half cups of flour. Wasn’t there just regular flour?

Why did recipes have to be so complicated? Humans were fascinating, but utterly complex.

Then again, he really had no right to think about things that way, not after he recently lost his grace and became human himself. It’s about time that he got with the program, right? And since he’d been told by Dean and Sam that he’d be allowed to stay in the bunker with them, he figured that he might as well get accustomed to being human and doing…human things. Like cooking, for example. Humans spent so much time making food, and eating it, it seemed like a good place to start. Besides, Dean always made such a big fuss about pie, and Cas had never needed to eat before. He wanted to know what he was missing out on.

Cas sighed gently, dark brows furrowed in confusion as he glanced at the page that he’d torn out of the magazine, eyeing the glossy page again and again as he went back to gawking at the wall of what appeared to be over fifty different types of flour. 

“Excuse me, Sir?” A soft feminine voice behind him made him jump, “Is there anything that I can do to help you?”

Cas turned, spying a young woman, petite in frame. Her hair was a soft mousy brown, pulled into the low ponytail at the base of her neck, with bangs hanging in a loose curl just above her eyebrows. She wore a uniform of sort, a white button up shirt with a collar underneath a green apron with the logo of the store that he was currently at. It would appear that this woman worked here.

“Yes,” Cas said simply, holding up the magazine page, “I’m making this…Brittany,” He pointed at the apple pie recipe, as he noticed the nametag pinned to her apron, “But it doesn’t specify the type of flour needed, and there are so many to choose from,” He glanced back at the daunting wall before him. He noticed now that there were even sections that he hadn’t looked at yet. Organic flour, Gluten free four, and so on.

“Oh, that’s nothing to be worried about at all,” The girl smiled brightly as she lightly took the page from Castiel’s hand, not realizing that he had pulled it from one of the magazines that was sitting in a rack just a few aisles over, “Are you not much of a baker?” She inquired politely.

“No,” Cas was straight forward, “I’ve never done this before,” 

Brittany smiled in return, “We’ll get you all set,” Her face started to turn the slightest shade of pink, the man before her was very attractive after all, “First, with the flour, when a recipe doesn’t specify, you can just stick with all-purpose,” She reached forward, grabbing a blue and white bag and placing it into Cas’ cart, “Is there anything else that you’re needing, or do you already have the rest at home?”

“I don’t have any of it. I don’t exactly cook, or eat,” Cas mentioned, not seeming phased by the startled look on the girl’s face.

“Uhm, well here, I’ll show you where the apples are,” Brittany tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she guided Castiel to the produce.  
Unfortunately, the selection of apples was just as confusing as the selection of flour. In large bins, there were piles of apples. Red, Green, Yellow, even some that looked vaguely pink. Cas’ jaw dropped, “According to the recipe, I think three pounds,” He paused, lifting a brow, “Three pounds of each?” He inquired, and the young girl burst into laughter.

“What? Oh no no, just three pounds of whatever type you want,” 

“How about these ones?” Cas lifted a red delicious apple up, “These ones look the most like what are in the background of the picture, on the recipe,”

She smiled, but shook her head, “Those aren’t really good for baking, the best kinds are going to be these ones,” She pointed at a sign that read, ‘Mutsu apples,’ “These are good too,” She pointed at the ‘Honeycrisp apples,’ “Oh, but the golden delicious, Braeburn, and Granny Smith are really good for pies too,” She grinned, hoping that she’d get a sweet ‘Thank you,’ or maybe even the handsome man’s phone number. 

Cas watched in muted awe, innocently dropped the red delicious apple and snatching up one of the golden delicious. He lifted it to his nose, giving a soft sniff. It did smell delicious, just as the name suggested. But just to be sure, he parted his mouth and took a large bite. Brittany’s eyes snapped open and her mouth dropped, “O-Oh, sir…you can’t do that,” She stammered out gently, utterly confused at what the man was doing.

Cas hummed at the sweet flavor, nodding his head approvingly, “I’ll buy these ones,” He confirmed, loading up the bag with three pounds of them while the young confused girl helped him weigh them out. Poor thing didn’t seem to know what she was getting into. But she was kind, and she helped Castiel with the rest of his shopping list; picking out butter, sugar, salt, a fresh lemon, cinnamon, nutmeg, and so on, and even helping him pick a proper pie tin. When the list was all accounted for in the basket, she guided him to the front of the store, twirling a strand of hair around her fingers.

“I thank you for your help, Brittany, You’ve been a great asset to me in this endeavor. This has all been very…confusing,” Castiel admitted while he stood in line behind his basket. 

“Yeah, anytime, uhm…I never caught your name?”

“Uhm…My name…my name is,” He hadn’t thought of another one, quickly, his eyes darted to the magazine racks, “Brad, my name is Brad,” 

“Oh, Brad, I….well…if you’re not doing anything tonight,” The girl’s face went even darker pink in color, “Would you maybe like to get together, go see a movie or something?” She looked shy, hopeful, and a little nervous, but excited and expecting a good answer.

“I’m not sure that that is a wise decision on your part, Brittany,” Cas explained simply, pointing towards her face, “You don’t look like you’re feeling very well, your face is turning red, and it’s only been getting worse over time,” The poor girl looked mortified, “You should probably get yourself to a doctor to be examined,” He thought he was being very reasonable, but of course, the poor girl didn’t see things Cas’ way, and her eyes suddenly felt moist as though she were about to burst into tears. 

“All you had to say was ‘no,” She half whispered, voice cracking as she rubbed a hand over the back of her eye. By this time, it was Cas’ turned to be checked out, the cashier looking between the two of them confused as Brittany slipped away, disappearing into the aisle, leaving Cas standing there completely baffled. He was only concerned for the girl’s health, but he seemed to be getting a few angry glares from the nearby customers. Humans were so strange. Cas tried to shrug off the situation and quickly placed his items up for the young man at the register to scan his items. 

“What the girl ever do to you?” The cashier glared at Cas.

“Oh, she was very helpful, actually,” Cas didn’t seem to detect the hint of animosity in the young man’s voice.

“Then why’d you shoot her down?”

“She appeared ill, Besides, I’m afraid that I already have plans for tonight,” Cas explained easily, “Dean told me that pies were good for more than just eating, and I’m looking forward to what he means by that,”

The cashier lifted a brow, and shook his head, quickly scanning the rest of the items and dropping them into a bag for Cas, not even wanting to ask about the apple with a bitemark in it. He asked for cash, and Cas handed the boy the plastic card that Sam had given him – not fully understanding how it worked. Humans had such a strange way of conducting transactions. These little plastic cards, there was such a fuss about them. Why did humans believe they held such power? Even little pieces of paper printed with ink resembling their past leaders seemed incredibly valuable to the humans, and Cas still couldn’t understand why. Regardless, the boy gave him his receipt, and sent him out with his bags. Now all that was left to do, was to get back to the bunker, prepare the pie, and surprise Dean – and then Dean could teach him what else could be done with pie. If not eating, what else did one do with foodstuffs, Cas couldn’t help but wonder.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm pretty sure the next chapter will be the last chapter.  
> And to think this was supposed to be a one-shot, Pftttt, my one shots never just end as one shots xD  
> Comments and feedback are loved and adored,  
> Let me know you're there and what you think!

Apples, sugar, salt, butter, eggs, one lemon, more sugar, more butter, cinnamon, nutmeg, another egg for something else later on in the recipe.

And for the love of all things good on this earth, do not forget the all-purpose flour.

Cas eyed the ingredients, looking surprisingly intimidated as he stood there with his palms against the kitchen countertop, head slowly drifting from side to side. He didn’t understand where to start exactly.

“Sam…” Castiel inquired to the man sitting on the barstool just on the other side of the counter, and the younger Winchester looked up in question, “What…is a tsp?” the last word came out sounding more like ‘tisp,’ rather than what it stood for.

“A what?” Sam’s brows shifted up.

“A tsp,” Cas said again, lifting the recipe and pointing at the glossy page, “Right here, what does this mean?”

“That’s just a way of shortening a word, it means ‘Teaspoon,’” Sam explained, standing and moving beside Cas, pointing out each of the different terms, “This one is tablespoon, cups, pounds,” He explained, “It’s baking jargon,” Cas looked perplexed, “It’s like a code for bakers,”

“Bakers have their own code,” Cas looked at Sam in awe, “Why can’t they just spell it out in traditional English?” 

Sam shrugged, “Takes up less space this way, I guess,” he moved back to the barstool that he’d been perched on moments ago, “Why exactly are you doing this, Cas?”

“Because this is what humans do, and I’m human now,” Cas explained.

“Not all humans just sit around and bake pie all day,” Sam tilted his head, “You didn’t want to start with something a little more simple?” He asked, hair falling over his ears before Sam pushed it back into place. 

Cas looked downward, “No, it needed to be pie,”

“Because of Dean?” Sam guessed, after all, out of the three of them, Dean was the one with the pie obsession.

Cas nodded, “He’s always said, that homemade is better. That the ones that he buys from the store can’t compare,” Cas continued softly, “Before we were able to take shelter here, he told me that he couldn’t remember the last time that he’d had pie that wasn’t bought at a store, or frozen and baked from a restaurant,” Same began to understand, and smiled just a bit, “I wanted to do something special for Dean,” He explained further, “As a human, I can’t be of great benefit to either of you, but if I can do this one thing for Dean…”

Sam sighed, “You’re not useless just because you’re human, Cas, I mean…Dean and I, we’re humans just like you. Besides, it’s not just about you being a ‘benefit,’ you’re our friend, Cas, We’re practically family by now,” Sam grinned gently and Cas gave a shaky little smile.

“Right, you two are more like brothers to me than all the…” Now fallen angels, as it were. Cas shook his head, and rolled up his sleeves, “It’s time to get cookin’, Sam,” For a split second, Cas seemed very confident in his abilities, but it wavered slightly, “You will stay…Right, Sam? There may be more code to decipher?”

Sam chuckled softly, “Sure, I’ll help you with the apples, make it go by faster,” 

But despite the fact that Cas allowed Sam to help him in washing and slicing the apples, Cas insisted that he be the one to do everything else. He wanted to prove to himself that he could be useful without his grace, that he wasn’t dead weight to the Winchesters now that he was no longer an angel, that Dean shouldn’t get rid of him. Not that Dean had talked about kicking him out, but the fear was still there. He wasn’t as worried about what Sam thought, but when it came to Dean…Dean was just…different, and just the idea of Dean finding Cas useless was a thought that Cas couldn’t even begin to bare. 

He was useful, and he wanted Dean to need him, just as much as he needed Dean.

Over the next forty-five minutes or so, the pie slowly came together; Cas carefully reading the instructions aloud to himself, hoping they would sink in better that way. Once in a while, he would run across a phrase or a bulletpoint that he didn’t understand, and he would hold the page out to Sam, with his fingers dusted in flour, begging for assistance. There was a moment in the very beginning, where Sam was still quartering apples, where he didn’t understand what Cas was doing. Cas was in front of a large bowl, and had one hand firmly planted beside it on the counte with his fingers outstretched. Cas refused to move the hand on the cutting board, using only his left hand to grab the first few ingredients and dumping them into the bowl.

“Cas? What are you doing?” Sam inquired.

“The instructions, they said to make the dough by hand,” Cas noted, “So my hand is beside the bowl while I make the dough,” 

Sam burst into laughter, “Cas, that’s not…” he could barely breathe, and poor Cas was left standing there looking absolutely befuddled.

“I misinterpreted the code again?” Cas’ brows sunk almost sadly as he slid his hand off the cutting board. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to – “ Sam cleared his throat, “’By hand’ doesn’t mean that your hand needs to be next to it, it means that you don’t use a mixer, that you actually use your hands to mix the dough together,”

“Oh. I suppose that is also a logical conclusion,” Cas blinked, immediately dropping his hands into the bowl, taking handfuls of the loose dough and squishing it through his fingers, looking at Sam for approval.

Sam nodded, “Close enough,” But chuckled, “But you don’t want to do it too long, or it’ll melt the butter, so you might want to stick it in the fridge if it gets too warm,”

Cas nodded in understanding. After another minute or two, Cas disappeared. Sam assumed Cas was just going to the rest room, so he didn’t pay much mind when Cas back back.

“How warm is too warm, Sam?” Cas asked, looking down at the bowl, where he was holding an old fashioned glass thermometer into the dough, squinting down at the red line as it rose upward.

Sam tried so hard not to laugh, he bit his bottom lip, held a hand up to his mouth, sunk his teeth into his knuckle and…he just couldn’t hold it back, “You don’t have to…Cas,” He shook his head, “Oh God, Cas,” 

“Don’t say my father’s name like that, Sam,” Cas corrected quickly. 

“Sorry, sorry, just…you don’t have to actually take it’s temperature,” He leaned forward as Cas removed the thermometer and set it on the counter. Sam took a piece of the dough into his fingertips and squished a piece, testing it’s firmness, “See, it’s too soft, But you can put it in the fridge and it’ll be fine, just leave it there for a few minutes and you’ll be golden,”

“Sam…why would the temperature of dough affect the molecular structure of my physical being, or my coloration,” 

Sam sighed and gave a lopsided smile, “It’s an expression, Cas,” 

Cas blinked and took the bowl, setting it in the fridge. Once the fridge door was closed, he simply stood there and waited, not moving.

“Cas?”

“How will I know it’s done, Sam? Should I check it again?” Cas sounded just a touch frantic.

“Huh? Oh, you can just check it in a minute, just like I did when it was on the counter,”

“Alright,” And Cas began counting, “One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi…”

Sam had to excuse him, setting down the apple he was coring next to the paring knife, and disappearing down the hallway to laugh until he was almost blue in the face. Is that really how Cas thought humans kept time? Either way, it took Sam a good few minutes to regain his composure. By the time he came back, Cas was still feeling the dough between his fingers, Sam noticed that the man had separated it into two piles of small globs. 

“Cas? What’s with the piles?”

“These ones are firm enough,” he waved his hand over the larger pile, “But these ones are too soft still,” He ripped off another small piece of dough and squished it between his fingers, “Too soft,” He said and placed it in the appropriate pile.

“Uhm, you don’t have to…not to all of it,” Sam chuckled again, face still red from his laughing fit just a few moments ago, “You can just mix that all together and keep going onto the next step, It’ll be fine,”

Cas looked up, “But I want it to be perfect, not just fine,” Cas said sincerely.

“Hey, Cas, it’s gonna be perfect, trust me,” Sam placed a reassuring hand on Cas’ shoulder before he looked down at the recipe, “Now you just gotta finish the filling, and then you can put it in the crust after the crust has chilled, you’re almost there,”

Cas nodded in determination before leaning down to read the next step. Sam picked up the ball of dough, wrapped it in plastic wrap and set it on the shelf in the fridge, since he was done with the apples – Having tossed out the one that Cas bit into. For the next step, Cas took the bowl of apples, and grabbed the lemon. With one hand he lifted the lemon over the bowl and began to squeeze. He furrowed his brow, looking a little taken aback that it might not have been going the way that he expected. This human form was so weak. He took the lemon with both hands, and tried again, gritting his teeth, “Sam, Why can’t I get any juice out of the lemon?” 

Sam turned and blinked, “Cas…You’ve gotta cut it open first, but don’t let the seeds get in,”

“Cut it?” Cas looked at it, “How should I?”

“In half,” Sam guided, lay it on the cutting board, “Yeah, like that, and then cut down the middle, there you go,” Sam grinned and looked up and Cas just looked so very pleased with himself, like a child who had their mom put their prized drawing on the fridge door for everyone to see. Not that Sam knew what that felt like, but that was beside the point, “Now just hold your other hand under the lemon, and squeeze so you can catch the seeds. Perfect, see?” Cas tossed the seeds away, and did the same to the other half.

“I think I’m finally getting a hang of this, Sa-ow!” Cas had squeeze the other half a little too hard, and had it facing up rather than down, a drop of lemon juice squirting into the corner of his eye. He squeezed his eyes shut and put the lemon down, grabbing the rag and holding it to his eye until the burning stopped, “Is that a defense mechanism of the lemon, Sam?” Cas asked, eye still reddened as he pulled the rag away. 

“You okay?” Sam leaned forward in concern, “It’s not...Lemons aren’t alive, well…not like people, exactly, I mean…it was on the tree,”

“So the lemon is dead?”

“Yeah…pretty much, but even a living one on the tree isn’t going to attack you. It’s a plant, not a weapon,” 

Cas still looked perplexed, but read the next step of the recipe that said to make sure that each apple slice was covered in lemon juice. Cas dropped his hands into the bowl, picking each slice up and inspecting it, “Here, Cas,” Sam reached his hands forward, taking Cas’ and guiding them through the apples, tossing the apples, helping Cas coat the apples, “Humans are too lazy to do things as meticulously as you,” Sam chuckled lightly as the two of them continued through their quest to make Dean the perfect pie, “Here, keep doing that, I’ll add the sugar in for you,” Sam did so, “Keep mixing them up like that, and make sure to wash your hands after, you don’t want to get more lemon juice in your eye,” Cas nodded quickly, looking mortified at the idea of living through that again. 

Next, the apples were added to a saucepan with butter, where Cas again counted the minutes out. Seven minutes this time, “Four Mississippi, Five Mississippi, Six Mississippi,” Sam of course, set the timer on his phone as well, and it went off in seven minutes, leaving Cas confused, “Sam…Your alarm interrupted my counting, I was almost finished,”

“Cas, my alarm did the counting for you,” Sam explained, “Test an apple, to see if they’ve softened up,” Without any hesitation, Cas dropped his hand into the pan, “Cas, wait, not like - !!”  
Cas grabbed an apple slice with two fingers tips, only for his eyes to widen in surprise as he dropped the slice to the floor and jumped back.

“Oww…Sam, it was hot,” Cas blinked at Sam, shoving his fingers into his mouth.

“You’re supposed to use a fork, and blow on it, so it doesn’t burn you,” Sam moved over to the sink and turned on the water, “Here, put your fingers under the water, it’ll make sure you don’t get blisters,”

“Oh, alright,”

In the meantime, Sam picked up the apple slice that was thrown onto the floor and tested an apple the proper way, “Seems done to me,” He swallowed quickly, the slice still a bit hot, but not too bad, “Now we strain them, and roll out the dough,” Sam set the fork down, “How’s your fingers?” 

Cas shook his fingers off and turned off the tap, “There are so many nerve endings in fingertips, it’s not very useful, is it?”

“Well, It is, in ways, I mean…it’s evolution and stuff, You know?”

Cas looked at Sam blankly.

“Uhm, nevermind,” Sam shook his head, “You grab the dough and start rolling, I’ll strain these so you don’t get burned again,” He didn’t want to have to drive Cas to the hospital, dripping in hot apple filling. 

Cas did as he was told, grabbing the dough from the fridge and placing it on the counter. Sam told him to remove the clingwrap, so Castiel did so and deposited the film into the waste bin, “This is what we fill, Sam? But the apple will just splill out,”

“No, you grab that dish,” Sam pointed at the pie pan, “Yeah, that one, that’s what we fill,”

Cas grabbed the lump of dough and set it into the dish, “Like this?” 

Sam chuckled, “Not quite,” He finished up with the apples and grabbed the rolling pin, dusting the counter with flour, as he placed the dough back onto the countertop, “Like this,” And he rolled the wooden rolling pin over the dough several times before he picked it up and gave it a quarter turn, before repeating the motion, “See? Now do that till it gets just a little thinner, then you put it in the pan,”

So once again, Cas did as he was told, rolling the dough out, and keeping one eye on Sam, “Yeah, that’s good, now slowly pick it up and lay it in the pan,” Can did so cautiously, almost too cautiously and Sam found himself wondering why Cas thought this was so important. It was just pie. But to Cas, it was so much more, it was a sign of how he felt about Dean. He wanted to make sure that his message was crystal clear. Dean was the best thing in his life, and he wanted this pie to be the best that it could be, just for Dean.

Castiel meticulously pressed the dough into the pan, letting Sam teach him how to remove the excess crust. It was then time to add the filling, Castiel used oven mitts while he poured in the filling, watching in awe, “It smells so good, Sam,” He swallowed, “Do you think that Dean will like it?”

Sam smirked, “He’ll love it, Cas,” He laughed and folded his arms, “Dean’s never met a pie he doesn’t like…” He paused, thinking it over, “He even likes strawberry and rhubarb,” Sam wrinkled his nose, showing his disdain, “Besides, you really didn’t have to do this, and you’ve gone through so much trouble. Trust me, he is going to love it,”

Cas smiled softly, “I hope you’re right,” He gently rolled out the rest of the dough for the top, and Sam aided him in crimping the edges and creating vents in the top. 

After all that time, it was finally time to slide it into the oven.

And not a moment too soon.

An exaggerated sniffling could be heard from the front door of the bunker, “Is that pie?” Dean’s footsteps had a surprising urgency to them as he joined them in the kitchen, catching sight of Cas covered in flour and cinnamon, “Seriously…you guys actually made pie?”

Cas smiled brightly, “Only thirty-two minutes until it’s done,” Cas then turned to the oven, “Sam, I appreciate your alarm, but I feel that it is not very accurate,” Cas simply stood there before the oven, leaving both Sam and Dean a little baffled,  
“One Mississippi, Two Mississippi, Three Mississippi,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost feel bad for all of the lame jokes, and making Cas almost stupidly oblivious. Almost. But not really. Also, apparently this is becoming borderline Sam x Cas? I don’t know what happened?


End file.
